


See The Fire in Your Eyes

by GoldenEntertainment



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Lives, Child Death, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Hurt Arthur Morgan, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Arthur Morgan, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenEntertainment/pseuds/GoldenEntertainment
Summary: I've seen these types of fics going around since the original idea for the story was revealed so I decided to give it my own twist.Eliza lives in this one but strap in lads because it's one hell of a ride.
Relationships: Eliza/Arthur Morgan, Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	1. Too soon

**Author's Note:**

> This was written very late at night so I apologise for any spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes or if it just feels bland. I'll hopefully return to this when it's not very late at night ^`^

No. Please. He was too young. It was too soon. It was too fast. 

Arthur had practically jumped off his horse when he heard a strangled sob come from the wagon next to him. He pulled back the cover to find his lover curled up with their child wrapped in many blankets. It was obviously not enough because when Arthur approached the scene, his eyes wide and breath going ragged, he could see his hand. Oh, his precious little hand. The hand that could barely wrap around one of his fingers. His hand, his cold, dead hand, dangling from the blankets. It had obviously emerged from the blankets when Eliza had scrambled to find him some warmth. 

Arthur felt his eyes water. His lungs threw out raspy breaths. He fell to his knees beside Eliza, wrapping his arms around her and their dead son. He hadn't cried this hard in years. He could even say ever.

Issac. Their dead son Issac. He saw his deathly grey face stare up at him. Or behind him. He couldn't tell as the eyes were glazed over with a lifeless film. 

He felt the wagon pull to a stop, but neither of them moved as they were too far occupied with mourning to notice Ms. Grimshaw come in and solemnly look at the small ball of sobs and tears the family had become. Once she saw Eliza slowly remove her face from the wet spot in Arthur's shirt, Susan had quietly asked the two to come inside the little cabins they had found in the vast land of snow and frost and fear.

He didn't know what he was going to do. What they were going to do. 

Arthur lay in the cot they had been shown to. Eliza was curled up in a ball, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They hadn't said a word since their son had died. They couldn't find their voices, let alone trust them to not turn into mangled cries. They just lay there in silence. 

Both their checks were glistening in the low lamplight from tears, occasionally bringing a new drop to leave it's trail across the side of their faces.

Finally, Eliza managed to find her voice. "Arthur?" she said. It felt both like a cry for help and a question, but his mind was too busy with other things to think on that. 

He grunted in reply. 

"You—" She stopped herself to take a deep breath. "You think he's up there? You think it wasn't too early to have been sent to heaven?" 

Arthur wasn't necessarily a religious man, neither was Eliza to be honest, but he knew she believed in more than he. "I hope"

"What if he didn't?"

"Whoever is up there may be cruel at times, but I doubt they'd send new life on earth just to kill it and send it to hell."

He felt her nod against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around her, as if to pull her down to him so she could never leave him. 

"I don't want to bury him here in the snow." She looked up at him. He didn't dare look her in her eyes. They looked too much like his. "I don't want him to be stuck in the snow forever. I want to bury him when we find a nice, grassy area. I want him to be buried near flowers, or by a flowing river, or with a clear view of the sky. I—" 

Her voice broke off. Instead of continuing, she pushed herself further against him for comfort. Arthur used what courage he had left in him to look down at her and kissed her forehead to which he received a sad, teary smile. 

They would make it out of here.


	2. Heartache Is One Hell of a Thing

The sounds of the camp slowly waking could be heard outside the frosted window that was kept ever so slightly open in the old, run down cabin. 

Arthur hadn't slept much that night but he felt the woman on his chest sleep at some point. She was tired, she had gone through so much. But now they were both awake just listening to each other's breaths while holding each other close as if to say to the other person they didn't want to lose them either. They obviously didn't, but for the moment actions were easier than words for them. 

He felt her shuffle under his arms. She brought her face up to the crook of his neck, which he had opened up for her, and he felt small drops of tears travel down his neck. He tightened his grip around her and pushed the hair out of her eyes. 

She looked at him and he saw Issacs eyes in hers. His breathing got heavier as he pushed her head back against his neck and they just layed there, quietly sobbing to themselves in each others embrace. 

There was a soft knock on the door which they ignored until it returned with a slightly harder knock. 

"Come in." Arthur said. He was almost surprised to hear his voice as it had gone rapsy and cold. 

The door cracked open. Arthur focused on every noise it made. The handle moving, the lock coming out, the hinges creaking, the door brushing against the thin rag on the ground which he supposed represented a carpet. 

Hosea's head slowly crept from behind the door. His eyes were focused at the floor as he came in. 

"Uh, I have food." He revealed two plates of whatever Pearson could make in a situation like this and slowly placed them on the small table next to the window. He stopped before he left, "He was a good kid." 

Just as quickly as he had come in, he closed the door behind him and once again it was only the two, just now with two more objects to be blurred in their teary view. 

He felt Eliza take her head away from his neck and rest it back on his chest, now with a clear view of the food on the table, that created a line of steam in the cold. She mumbled something but he didn't really hear, but it felt like she said "we should eat". 

He grumbled as he slowly made his way out of the cot. Instead of standing up he sort of sat on the edge of the cot, with one leg planted on the ground and the other sort of dangling across it. 

He felt a warm familiar hand touch his back as Eliza too sat on the cot. He reached out for the food and they just stared down at it. Eliza was first to take a bite. Like he said, she was tired as so much had happened, he wouldn't be surprised if she was also hungry. 

He wasn't all too keen with having to eat at the moment but a few gentle rubs across his back from his lover prompted him to pick up the dainty spoon and start taking small nips from it. It was something. 

Dutch was pacing up and down the front room of the main cabin. Hosea was sat by the fire, staring into it with relief at how warm it could keep him even in the coldest of places. 

"No no no!" Dutch yelled, "It shouldn't have gone like that! Someone must have screamed! And now Arthur's unavailable because we lost Isaac." 

He stopped pacing and tapped his finger against his thigh in thought. 

Hosea spoke softly before Dutch could return to his rant, "We have to keep low Dutch, what's done is done. If we find who tattled we'll get them in their own time, now we have to find someplace safe for the folks to stay. We have to lay low Dutch."

Dutch didn't seem to be listening but Hosea could tell he was thinking over his words, them flipping around on his head trying to be put together. 

"How's Arthur?" 

"What?" 

"How's Arthur?" 

Hosea looked up at him, "Dutch the man just lost his son, you expect him to be out picking flowers and baking pies?" 

Dutch turned to face the older man. He coughed before he spoke. "You saw him when you went to deliver breakfast, what state is he in?" 

"Complete and utter misery. The girl too. When I walked in I thought they had been glued together with their tears overnight." 

Dutch paced a little more up and down the room. Neither seemed to notice Molly with a cup in her hands, looking over the whole situation with a worried look. She didn't speak. 

"Listen, my friend. We need to get everyone out of this goddamn snow. Then we can lay low. For now I'd rather we don't lose any more folks than we already have."

Hosea sighed. "I guess you're right Dutch but we can still do it discreetly, besides, we need to find John and Mac and Sean, so I'm afraid we're going to have to stay up here till we can at least figure out where the hell they've got to."

Dutch thought on this and turned his head to look out the window. "We could send Javier out to find John. I don't think he sustained any major injury." He looked down at Hosea. "Then we can find Mac and Sean when we're safe. I trust those two to stay out of trouble, John… Well you know John's luck."

Hosea chuckled, Molly smiled behind her cup. 

"Sounds like a plan."


	3. Moving up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY IT TOOK ME A WHILE AND IT'S SHORT BUT HOLY FUCK, THINGS HAVE BEEN GOING ON! Expect the chapters to be shorter for the time being until we get to the good part >:)

A few days had passed. Arthur had dared leave the cabin for a moment for some fresh air and Eliza followed after him but after noticing everyone's eyes glued to them as if they were wild animals, they promptly returned to their room. John had been found at some point. It wasn’t hard to notice, as they heard his raspy voice trying to calm Abigail down as he was taken to a cot, they didn’t see him but by the sounds of it, he was pretty beaten up. They also heard they had brought back some widow to camp after they found her in a house infested with O’Driscolls, they heard the ladies talking about it outside the window.   
  
A couple more days passed and now both Arthur and Eliza were beginning to do little jobs around the camp for about an hour or two before returning to where others wouldn’t stare holes into their backs. A knock came to their door and Arthur went to open it. Hosea stood there with a small smile on his face.   
  
“Morning Arthur, how have you been doing?”   
  
“Fine, I suppose.” He looked him up and down and gave a suspicious smirk. “You seem happy.”   
  
“Oh I am, we’re riding out of this goddam snow to some spot I’ve been to before, and trust me this spot will be good enough for us to get back on our feet.”   
  
Eliza, who was sitting on the cot and knitting, perked her head up at this. “We’re leaving?” she said in her soft voice.   
  
Hosea nodded.   
  
She looked up at Arthur and smiled before looking back at Hosea, “Will it be nice enough to, you know… bury _him_?”

  
Hosea’s smile faltered at the mention of Issac but he dropped his head with a laugh and in the action had his hat cover his face before either noticed properly. “Maybe there’ll be a nice spot for him, yes. For the most part, it’s a livestock town but there are some nice spots.”   
  
“When are we leaving?” Arthur asked.   
  
“2 days, perhaps, we have to pack up and make room for John and Mrs Adler.”   
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow, to which Hosea gave a small explanation of how Dutch, Micah and Lenny came across Mrs Adler, or Sadie.   
  
Hosea had left after a moment and Arthur put his hat on, kissed Eliza on the forehead and walked out the door to do a small chore.


End file.
